adult bookstore

I like to go to adult bookstores. No matter how many times a guy has sex and regardless of how many partners he has, he can’t possibly compete with the men in the magazines, on the videotapes, and in the old filmstrips. These tan gods, with their deep chests, broad shoulders, and rippling muscles, fuck each other, shemales, and, sometimes, even women, and at least one of them always has a cock in his (or some other guy’s) mouth. “Hot” doesn’t begin to express how sexy these naked dudes are, as anyone who’s ever been in the gay section of an adult bookstore knows.

I take my time, ogling the photographs of these magnificent men, eyeing their clear-cut facial features, their chiseled chests, their washboard abs, and their thick, muscular thighs. Of course, I also admire their compact buttocks and their thick, long cocks and bulge of balls. I think about their erect pricks, imagining them between my rounded lips or penetrating the tight ring of my anus. I picture my mouth closed around the thick shafts of their cocks, and I pretend that these same pricks are pumping hard between my buttocks as they stuff my rectum and threaten to split me in half.

As I move slowly along the wall of naked, sweating men shown on the magazine or videocassette or DVD covers, I look at black men fucking white men, white men sucking black men, and black men and white men sucking and fucking other black men and white men. The pink flesh contrasts well against the brown or black, heightening the eroticism of such images. The “forbidden” quality is also doubled. Not only are such couples interracial, but they are also homosexual, rather than heterosexual, couples.

I also like to watch men with shemales. To me, there is only one thing in all the world sexier than a shemale. The first time I ever spied one of these fabulous hermaphrodites, I was seized by the utter incongruity of a beautiful face, a lovely pair of tits, long, shapely legs, a pert pair of buttocks, and–a cock and balls! I am still swept away by such unseemly combinations of secondary sexual characteristics. These creatures, neither fully male nor fully female, but both and, at the same time, neither, show the arbitrariness of gender, if not sexual, identification. These babes are hot!

What I like more than anything else, shemales included, is to see one man fucking another, his dick halfway or further up his partner’s smooth, tight ass. I love to watch the fucker’s pubes slam against the impaled buttocks of his bent-over partner, flattening the sleek, fleshy globes before each thrust forward into the other’s depths. I love to watch the cock slide through the wide-stretched anus to disappear within the bowels for a second or two before emerging again prior to a renewed, even more frantic and frenzied assault.

By the time I get to the end of the shelves and racks that house these items, my own cock is standing stiff. It’s then that I enter the peepshow arcade. The closet-size booths are stained with semen. Spent sperm is everywhere–on the seats, on the walls, on the coin slots, and on the monitors. The grainy pictures that flicker on the monitors play behind a curtain of thick, dried semen streamers like snails’ trails. Once, I reached into the coin-return slot–my fingers were immediately coated with some other guy’s cum; he’d either shot part of his load into the slot or put it there deliberately, hoping another man (me) would reach for a returned coin and become branded with his seed.

I usually enter a booth that advertises anal sex, because, as I say, I can think of nothing sexier than one guy fucking another. The penetrated guy’s cock is often hard, too, and may stand upright against his belly. However, it’s a cock spurned, without purpose or use. All it does is point upward; if it ever launches semen, the sperm engenders nothing, means nothing. Of course, the other cock is equally purposeless and useless if its function I to impregnate, because no ass is capable of conceiving life. The only purpose of cocks in gay anal sex is to provide pleasure. The perversity of using an organ or procreation–or of misusing it–in such a way, purely for pleasure and without regard to reproduction, is sexy as hell. It’s also wonderful to watch one man ram and slam and thrust his thick, hard cock into another man’s bare, defenseless ass, so that the impaled partner is feminized. After all, sex is not about love; it’s about power.

While I am watching these men fuck, someone invariably tries the door to my booth. Usually, the man outside will shake the door, sometimes in a demanding fashion; other times, a discreet knock will sound, indicating that the man without requests to be admitted, both to my booth and, no doubt, to my ass. Although I am flattered and thrilled by such insistent attention, I invariably ignore it. I am careful about whose cocks I allow inside me. Diseases are rampant, and I certainly don’t need a case of clap or worse.

I take out my cock, masturbate, and add my own copious spurts of semen to the layers of dried sperm coating the walls of the booths. Then, I step out, and I am approached, discreetly or otherwise, by smiling, grinning men who have taken notice of the subject of the film or video shown in my booth and would like to fuck me. So far, I haven’t taken any of my suitors up on their sometimes-unspoken, sometimes-spoken invitations to participate in their anal antics, because I am afraid of AIDS, syphilis, and other diseases.

Instead, I find the next booth and deposit a quarter. Outside, the peepshow pimps approach my door, and the shakes and knocks begin again as they demand that I surrender my ass to them, hoping that, this time, they will get lucky.

Someday, one of them will.

September 2018
« Feb